


The man who ran

by GoodDalekPeppergrinderfromdowntheRiver



Series: Human AU [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Human AU, Human AU where the Doctor is a hitch hiker, River keeps hiding the damage, The Doctor keeps running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7169600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodDalekPeppergrinderfromdowntheRiver/pseuds/GoodDalekPeppergrinderfromdowntheRiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was nearly 12 am when the journey had come to an end and River Song could not help the pang of sadness radiating through her. She tried to suppress the feeling by telling herself that she was being stupid feeling so attached to a stranger. By reminding herself that she was a psychopath and that inherently meant that she was oblivious to friendship and sentiment. She was a user. A manipulator. Alone. The way she liked it.</p><p>However, she could not quite convince herself because he had been such great company. He had actually roared with laughter and disbelief when she told him that she had just finished her third year on an archaeology degree. He even had the cheek to say, "there I was thinking you were smart, but I must be wrong seeing as you'd willingly learn archaeology." He had insulted her intelligence and made a mockery of her course and yet she wasn't even angry. In fact, it was a refreshing surprise. Never had someone actually insulted her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be studying for my exams but things have got a little bit counter productive because I am literally studying every minute of everyday and I am so tired of doing the same thing all the time so I thought, I should write something and this came to mind.
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I actually proof read like a billion times so hopefully all the grammar and spelling is fine.
> 
> I don't own these character's unfortunately. :( ( 
> 
> Enjoy :)

 

She was driving back to London from Edinburgh after seeing her adoptive parents. It was merely half an hour in and she was already finding it rather monotone and tedious. She turned on the radio just to take her mind of the sheer boredom but it didn’t help much – just endless screeching and incessant babbling. At the end of a particularly horrible song, she resolved to turning off the radio and letting her eyes wonder around the motorway she was driving through. 

She let her gaze wonder and instantly saw a man about 500 meters away. He was perched on the side of the main road as if the hard bumpy ground was a comfy chair. She was sure that in that instant, many people would have averted their gaze and dismissed him to be a high hippie hitchhiker. However, her curiosity was too powerful and River could not help but take a closer inspection. He looked rather raggedy – brown stubble coating his chin and long chocolate brown hair. Rather gangly too. Long limbs that even from a far, she could tell he found difficult to handle. And was that a bow tie he was wearing? Before she could consciously think about it, River Song had stopped her car in front of the man.

"Do you need a ride?" She asked after she winded down her window.

 

 

It was not any everyday occurrence for River. Strange man in her car. However, it was actually rather a pleasant experience.

He'd galloped up from where he sat and asked her if she was sure and when she responded, she asked if he could put his bad on a chair. It was a blue, rather threadbare bag. She guessed that he must have a rather sentimental attachment seeing as it seemed as if it had been stitched several times just to keep it from falling apart. He caught her inquiring glance, smiled, and said "TARDIS," 

 

They did not talk for at least 10 minutes – instead they stole furtive glances at the other. He was rather handsome close up, despite the fact that it had been ages since he had shaved. Looked rather young, but his eyes seemed ancient as if he'd seen the universe itself being created. He was awestruck by her hair. Space hair, he had concluded.

She was the one to break the silence. "Well, are you going to stop staring at my hair? Honestly, it's not even the best bit of me to stare at."

He blushed profusely and whilst trying to articulate words, stuttered. Eventually, after the whole ridiculous display, he just resigned himself to silence. River Song just laughed and rolled her eyes. She was certainly going to enjoy herself!

"Thank you." He when he was seated on the front seat besides her. 

"Where are you heading?" She asked.

"Wherever and whenever the wind takes me." He replied as if he were in a trance.

"So London is fine?" she asked to which he nodded.

"What's your name?"

"Doctor."

"Doctor who?" She asked and he laughed.

"No really. What is your name? Doctor isn't a name, it's a title." 

"John Smith. And you are?" He replied a little bit deflated.  
  
"River Song."

"River Song is hardly a name either. Well, I guess it's stage name for a hooker or a prostitute or something where you're paid to be a tad bit theatrical." He commented and she glared at him.

"I'm driving you, remember that when you insult me!" 

 

 

It was nearly 12 am when the journey had come to an end and River Song could not help sadness radiating through her. She tried to suppress the feeling by telling herself that she was being stupid feeling so attached to a stranger. She tried reminding herself that she was a psychopath and that inherently meant that she was oblivious to friendship and sentiment. She was a user. A manipulator. Alone. The way she liked it.

However, she could not quite convince herself because he had been such great company. They'd flirted and each time he would go all incoherent and blush – his face going a raw red color - which was the icing on top of the cake for her. He had actually roared with laughter and disbelief when she told him that she had just finished her third year on an Archaeology degree. He even had the cheek to say, "there I was thinking you were smart, but I must be wrong seeing as you'd willingly learn Archaeology." He had insulted her intelligence and made a mockery of her course and yet she wasn't even angry. In fact, it was a refreshing surprise. Never had someone actually insulted her. River Song had no friends. People were divided into those who were intimidated. (She'd actually witnessed a girl dive under a table when she walked past.) The other group of people were those who were completely in awe and reverence. There were no intermediates and they all kept a distance from big bad, unorthodox misfit River Song. He somehow, was different and she liked that.

 

 

"Thank you very much," He had said, after they had parked the car in front of her flat.

"No problem sweetie." She responded trying to keep the sadness out of her voice. "Where will you go now?"

"I haven't the faintest clue. I was thinking about heading to Spain or perhaps Brazil or maybe Nigeria. I hear they've got really good fish there. Ooooh, or perhaps Germany again I went there once and this one lady thought that I had come to kidnap her and it did not go down well at all when she hit me with her bag but afterwards after I explained that I didn't mean to break into her house, she let me stay and gave me some bratwurst. I may visit her again and look at me, I'm rambling. I should probably shut up..."

She laughed genuinely and rolled her eyes. This man. Oh this impossible man. She resisted the urge to pull him closer and kiss him, settling just for straightening his bow tie.

"Though not tonight though I am a bit knackered! Do you know where I can find a hotel?" He asked.

"You can stay with me for the night?" She said with no hesitation. She had not meant it to sound suggestive and sultry but it must have came out that way because he was blushing profusely and attempting to talk with no avail. 

"Mind out of the gutter! I mean, on the couch." She said in feigned exasperation. 

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes." She replied, feeling the happiness course through her bones. Honestly, it was an irrational, uncalled for emotion. A stranger was staying in her house – she should have been scared, not happy.

"Just for one night I promise." He said, following her in.

 

 

She was glad that he did not keep his promises.

 

 

 

River Song was not her real name. It was a stage name, if you may. An alias. A pseudonym. She did not want to be Mels Zuckers - the name she was given by the orphanage. Mel Zuckers was the girl who used to be timid and scared. The girl who used to wonder why she could never fit in and why people did not like her. River Song was strong, brave and tough - nothing could scare her or penetrate her thick skin. 

She had no recollection of her birth parents. In fact, the way she thought if it, she had no parents in the first place. She was a child spontaneously created out of star and space debris. People usually pitied her when it cropped up in conversation that she was an orphan, though that fact did not bother her. She had the best adoptive parents ever to make up for the fact that that her childhood was not the nurturing cereal box family style that TV seemed to show.

As a teenager and adult she had been alone in every respect other than having adoptive parents. She never had any friends and any relationships. Only the odd one night stand when she felt like it and outrageous flirting that never amounted to anything more than just words. She had always thought that she'd never be close to anyone in the world in that way - though she did not exactly mind, seeing as in war, it is quite the tactical advantage to be cold, distant and unattached. 

 

 

However, these days, she woke up to John. Everything that was missing in her life. Everything she convinced herself that she absolutely did not need at all. He would make her breakfast - well attempt to anyway. He was trying to be nice, but he'd nearly burn down the whole house in the process! She'd roll her eyes and eventually heave herself out of bed to help him when the din of the fire alarm was getting on her nerves. He'd thank her profusely and tell her than next time, he won't let things get so out of hand, to which, she'd raise her eyebrow.

They'd spend most of the day talking. Learning more about the other. Arguing. Flirting. Arguing. River would try and curb the happy feeling radiating through herself by telling herself that he didn't care about her. He was only putting on a show so he had somewhere to live. However, still, she could not quite resist the assaults of affection when he smiled or said something funny. It was scary how quick her heart and soul and whatever else could succumb to change.  She was surprised how quickly something so unfamiliar and scary could become well worn in a matter or days. Maybe deep down, she longed for someone who would understand her? Someone who wouldn't be scared or blindly loyal. Maybe, all the time, she has been waiting patiently. Putting a wall up, yes, but waiting. Waiting for someone who could demolish it. It was rather a sticky ugly feeling – she'd never have thought of herself as so cheesy and romantic.

 

 

It would have been perfect, the both of them. She knew that she was getting ahead of herself. After all, she had met him two weeks prior. However, she loved him. That's why it hurt all the more. She loved him. In two weeks, he fell out of the sky, broke into her existence and made her feel things that’s she had always considered foreign. She was River Song, frozen and frigid and he was the fire burning her and it had felt so good to melt. She tried not to cry. Just closed her eyes and breathed in slowly. When it was too much, being awake, she took a cocktail of sleeping pills and alcohol and even though she had just woken up, she was able to fall asleep like a baby.

 

She loved that mad man. The mad man, made of out of space, just like her. The mad man who somehow understood her in a way that everyone else failed to.

When she woke up again, her head was in a better place. She no longer felt like crying; just really stupid. She had let him waltz into her life. She had put down her defenses. Who the hell puts down their weapons in the middle of a war? She threw on a perfectly composed smile and though she felt a little broken, she stood straight like a soldier. She resolved to be more careful when her heart was on the line next time. In fact, scratch that. She decided that she'd never let anyone take her heart again.

 

*****

 

_Two years later_

 

"Happy birthday Amy!" River exclaimed as soon as the door opened. The lady who appeared looked rather youthful despite being in her late 30's. She had long ginger hair and a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Despite bring petite, she pulled River into such a strong embrace that she almost lost balance and toppled over.  
  
"Come in then you muppet," Amy said as soon as she let go.  
  
River smiled, her heart feeling lighter as she stepped inside. She was home at last.

   
  
They had never planned to adopt. They wanted their own children to be running around the house. Their own flesh and blood. They wanted to do all the stressful boring yet fulfilling things that parents had to do, from going to parents evenings and giving pocket money. They wanted to be there at their for their child's graduations and performances in school plays and clap enthusiastically loud, saying "That is my so or daughter."  They certainly had not asked for River to fall out of the sky, already have baked and independent. She did not envisage ever having parents – or needing them in fact. However, as time wore on, they realized that sometimes the things you do not ask for and did not consider may be the best.

 

 

It all just sort of happened one day.

River was fifteen and had finally escaped the Kovarian Orphanage. When she had reached Edinburgh, her legs were aching from all the running and walking and she felt rather faint. What did not help was the weather. The heavy rain smacked her showing no mercy and she struggled to remain upright as the wind blew ferociously in all different directions. She decided to stop at the first place that she could sit without being tormented by the rain.  That was how she found herself in a strange cafe, where everyone sounded … funny, spending the last of her money on cake and a cup of tea. She didn't have a: clue where she was; specific plan and money, didn't really bother her at that moment as the cake was phenomenal. She ate the cake slowly, as to savour the taste as much as possible. After all, she couldn't exactly stuff it all down, when she had no idea when the next time she would eat would be.

Amy loved her local café. It was where she found respite away from home. When Rory left to work, it would only be her at home, writing articles and stories. The silence would be suffocating, deafening and unnatural. With no unexpected sounds, she could actually hear pins drop. This unsettled Amy. In her youth, she had been the sort to get out and about. To scream and shout and party and talk; she'd been welcoming to sound. As she matured, not much had changed. She liked to hear: laughter, communication; the rustle of leaves; the whoosing of wind and the pitter patter of rain against the windows. Being at the cafe made her feel so alive and young and free. Rory - bless him - only liked the cafe because she did. 

They had decided that Rory would meet her for lunch there during his break and that they would open the results there. Meanwhile, she had been writing a new story on her laptop. However, she was rather absent minded today, not amending any spelling mistakes that appeared and not adequately punctuating her sentences. The only thing on her mind was the results. They made or broke her life. She had been hoping for the best - not really prepared for the implications of the worst.

When Rory arrived, he didn't say much. He sat beside her and nodded to the envelope on the table. She hesitantly picked up the letter and breathed in and out. Did she dare open the letter? Wasn't it better just lingering in uncertainty? Was it not better to speculate on probabilities as opposed to getting a certain definite answer? Rory pulled her other hand into his and held it gently. _We do this together, or not at all._

Holding her breath, she ripped open the envelope. 

She breathed out steadily once the letter was opened and turned to Rory who was frowning at the paper as it were responsible for all the grief, anger, pain and sorrow that he had experienced in his life. 

Sterile. Her womb was barren. Inhospitable. She was destined to never feel the joy of her own tiny miracle kicking her as if she were a football. She'd never have the luxury of cradling her child in her arms. She snatched her hand out of Rory's and threw the paper vehemently away. He tried to hug her, but flinched at his touch and physically distance herself from him. _How dare he try treat her like a victim when this was her fault?_  Her husband would never get to take their child to school or to tuck their child to bed. He was to suffer because she was all wired up wrong. He deserved better.

 

 

From the far corner, there were soft and morose sounds unlike those she had ever heard before. Curiosity - as it always did - got the better of her and she found herself staring. There was a lady crying. She had located the source of the sound which should have been enough, only she felt compelled to stare wide eyed. Crying was as foreign a concept as friendship was. She did not understand its purpose. Blatantly expressing vulnerability and weakness - it rattled her quite a bit. The lady may as well have a sign above her head saying ' _I am a target.'_

A male - she presumed her husband - was trying to touch her, but each time he got close, the lady was throwing him a glare. Maybe he had cheated on her, River wondered. River must had been staring for at least ten minutes when she was caught.  
  
"Oih you! You think it's funny, me crying?" The ginger lady shouted and all eyes were diverted to her. Her eyes were bright with tears, hurt and anger - she really was in the mood to pick a fight. Normally, River would probe and prod until the situation became explosive, but at that instance, she was so taken aback that all she could do was blink.  
  
"No." She replied " I just have never seen anyone cry in public and ..."  
  
To her surprise, anger diffused out other face. She was not quite smiling, but was not frowning either. River had asked her why she was crying and Amy explained that she could not have children. To which River responded that that just meant that they would never have to let their kid down. They would never face making mistakes and ruining their child. They were being save from future heart break. Amy frowned, giving the girl a scrutinizing glare. _Young. Disheveled appearance, damp and ... maybe, maybe, her words were not spiteful, but she had to bare the brunt of parents who got it wrong? Maybe she wished her parents couldn't have children so she didn't need to suffer?_

"No child of ours would have suffered," Rory said confidently, squeezing Amelia's hand in reassurance. 

 

"So, how come you are here? You look rather young. Shouldn't you been in school?" Even though the lady had pretty much poured out her heart, River was more cautious. She could not just divulge all her secrets. She absolutely refused to trust strangers even after she had figured out their limits.

"I am not really here, " Amy frowned skeptically but didn't probe her.

 

 

River had been rather sentimental and stupid. It was completely unlike her. She was normally cold and unattached. She normally just manipulated people to get what she wanted. She had never really cared about anyone before – after all, why should she? At war, all a person could do was care about themselves. Caring for another person would either leave collateral damage or betrayal.

Though, they had seemed really nice... and well... she had a good feeling about them. Never had anyone been willingly nice to her. All the staff at the Kovarian orphanage just scowled and snarled. No one had ever really smiled at her before. Therefore, the next day, ruled by her heart instead of her head, she returned, hoping that she would bump into the lovely couple again – by coincidence. Amy was at first surprised to see River there, but before Amy could ask questions, River asked her what she was doing and so Amy told her about her career as a journalist and story writer. River, not wanting to leave the lady in a haste, started give Amy ideas. Amy, who was similarly liking her company insisted in buying River cake and tea. 

It become routine. River would arrive early morning and wait for Amy to arrive. They would sit there through the morning, discussing the development of Amy's stories. Sometimes. they branched onto random stuff which always left them both giggling and earning mildly irritated glances from other people in the cafe. Rory join them during his lunch break and they'd eat cake and drink tea. River would always stay elusive and hold things close to her chest, even though, as the days wore on, she could not help but feel comforted by their presence.

It took two weeks before they probed River. _Why was she always alone – didn't she have parents? Why was she always there during the day – what about school?  She looked rather disheveled - did her parents not look after her? In fact, was she even in contact with her parents? Had she run away?_

River - tired of sleeping rough and tired of life and tired of all the hardship - had let slip that she was lost in a strange place and she kept coming back to the people who made things a little bit more bearable. She was all alone in the world, no parents, no family and no shelter. She had expected them to call the police and hand her in. She had suspected that she would have to run and leave Edinburgh. However, they invited her to stay – if she'd have them.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
They were eating cake and drinking champagne when the doorbell rang. River shot up to go open the door wondering who it could possibly be. Amy and Rory did nit have many friends. They had severed ties with most people many years ago. When she saw who was stood before her, her heart practically leaped and stopped at the same time. He was clean shaven this time. In bow tie, fez and suspenders. He - the man who had stolen her heart - was standing there offering her a sheepish and cautious grin? Was she hallucinating? Perhaps something was slipped into her drink - after all, it certainty would not be the first. She was tempted to pinch him, just to see if he was real but before she could get the chance to, Amy appeared by her side screeching "John, you made it!"

"I used to babysit John when I was younger. Our parents are friends River. Well were. They are dead now. I used to hate him so much. Always used to gloat when he knew things that I didn't. Our friendship was weird, considering the age difference. People actually used to think that I just really liked young guys and then I'd explain to then that first of all no, never in his lifetime. Secondly, that John is older than he looks anyway. An old man in a young man's body. I think though in reality, he's like a little bit older than you my dear. Like three or so years. Maybe you'd like to get to know each other? We were best friends and then one day, he fell of the face of the earth. Left me. That was like nine years ago I think. " She said throwing him an accusatory glare.

"I had places to be." John tried to say as nonchalantly as possible, however, tension was rising through him because he could feel River staring at him. 

"You had to run actually." 

"I was not running actually!"

"That is what you said. I remember, you said I'm not running away. This is one corner of one country, in one continent on one planet that's a corner of a galaxy, that's a corner of a universe that is forever growing and shrinking and creating and destroying and never remaining the same for a single millisecond and there is so much, _so much,_ to see, Amy. Because it goes so fast. I'm not running away from things. I'm running _to_ them, before they flare and fade forever. Poetic as ever, raggedy man. Then, around nine years later, you call and crawl back here."

"I wouldn't be so surprised if you had those words typed up and put them on a frame." He laughed, although it was rather tense.

River laughed. It was sharp. Loud and over the top that everyone knew she was feigning it. Amy and Rory stared at their daughter perplexed whereas John looked rather scared. "So he just left you? Such a pathetic arsehole, running away from things. Some men, you especially John, are so cowardly."

All eyes were on her, wide and aghast. John gripped his champagne glass tightly and braced himself. 

"River! Apologize now! " Rory said sternly. John winced and Amy looked between them curiously.

"It is only a joke, father dear!"

"Father?" John asked quizzically.

"Adopted. Long story." Rory offered as though it were an adequate explanation. Silence fell. Even a complete idiot would be able to tell that the room was saturated with tension. John Smith kept throwing sheepish and apologetic glances at River but she stared down at her lap, seemingly oblivious. Amy, who had been to shocked to talk, just looked between her friend and her daughter perplexed. She knew very well that her daughter could be hostile at times, but that was mostly when she was provoked. John Smith certainly could be annoying and irritating. However, Amy was certain that even he didn't deserved to be lashed out on. She glared at her daughter, who looked back, feigning innocence. 

"Okay, what is going on?" Amy demanded after a while.

"Nothing mother!" River answered though Amy could tell  from her tone that there was definitely something.

"Do you two know each other or something?" 

"No." River had said just as John had said yes. River finally looked up to glare at him. Her eyes were fiery. She looked as if she could murder him without feeling the tiniest bit of remorse. John flinched and gulped.

"We... we... er... I was hitchhinking... and she... she stopped and we talked... and I stayed with her for a while..." John stammered. Amy had to strain her ears to hear.

She frowned. "And?"

"I told him I loved him and he ran." River interrupted. Her voice, low, caustic and deadly. "Now, if you don't mind, I am going to my room!"

Amy and Rory looked at each other, wide eyed. Shock did not cut it at all. What they were feeling was beyond that. Their daughter... their daughter had told someone that she loved them? That... that was something that they were not expecting at all from her, for at least... another couple of centuries perhaps. Amy found herself grinning - this was obviously a joke... because... because she knew her daughter well... and love was inconsistent with her personality... 

"She's joking, isn't she?"

John sighed heavily. His head hung in shame. "I wish," 

 

 

It did not hurt as much now. The wound wasn't as raw. But still, as she sat there in her room, heaving in air angrily, she could not help the indignation coursing through her bones.

He was gone and left a note in his place.

"Had to go." Was all that was on the note.

No apology, no explanation. Nothing.

She reread the note several times. Till her eyes were weary. Till the words on the page looked blurry and obscure. Initially, she could not process what had happened. She knew that John was going to leave one day, but why all of a sudden?

After a while, it started to click. She had let slip that she loved him. It was a day just like the rest. Nothing particularly special had happened. Only he had looked at her – properly looked at her – and the only people who did that was her parents. He could see her and suddenly, she didn't feel so scared of all the new and warm feelings protruding her thoughts. She'd let it slip out nonchalantly as if it were no big deal. The she kissed him. At first he flailed about, unsure of what his hands were supposed tp be doing. However, soon enough, they were wrapped around her waist. He abruptly let go of her and for a split second, he looked so scared. But soon enough, he was smiling smugly at her.

"Can't keep your hands of me, can you?" He flirted.

He had seemed fine... fine... like he had flirted back. They argued and talk and the day was normal.

 

Then he left.

He left her feeling stupid and pathetic.

 

 

"If you do not go talk to her, I will see to it that you are murdered!" Amy hissed at John. 

"I have a sword you know!" added Rory.

He sighed and got up from his seat and went to River's room. He knocked on her door lightly and prayed to a God that he didn't believe in that she would be merciful and that she would not have to face the Pond's wrath.

 


	2. Chapter 2

He had no idea what he was supposed to say. He could not every well tell her the truth - that he left because he wanted to escape her.  No. He did not fancy being glared to death by Amy and strangled by River. Though he could not very well lie; the way River looked at him, he could tell that she could see through any of his masks and charades so it was not worth even trying, 

"Who would have thought, the mighty River Song crying." Was the first thing that came to his mind. He winced, when he realized what he had said – that was not good at all. Why did nothing that fell out of his mouth actually sound right?

A small smile tugged on her lips, but it was soon gone. She couldn’t allow herself to succumb to his charm like she had last time. No, she needed to be stronger and more stubborn. She frowned indignantly. " I am not crying!"

"Okay, fine just frowning. I thought you looked pretty with a smile, but you're so gorgeous angry," he flirted, stepping into her personal space and bopping her nose. "What a lucky guy I am, in trouble with you. How shall you punish me?"

She closed her eyes. Her heart was tingling and her palms were drenched in sweat. One small touch was all it took to make her feel all hot and out of breath. She felt weary and weak because apparently, one small touch was all it took to knock down all the walls she had erected two years ago when he left.

"John," she whispered morosely.

"I hate you." She whispered after a while. 

"No you don't." he said. And that was the problem. She didn't hate him. She couldn't. _You bastard. Why did you have to steal my heart?_ She thought before offering him a small smile. She was not sure if her hearts were at all ready for all the agony and pain but she could not help that she loved him. That she had loved him despite how much he hurt her and that she loved him in his absence. 

 

_One week later_

They had been fine; better than fine actually they flirted, talked, argued – there was no indication at all that they had parted on bad terms at all. River's parents watched perplexed, not at all sure of they should be scolding John for hurting her in the first place or if they should be thanking him for making their little girl the happiest they had ever seen her.

 

River walked down the stairs, her mother following closely after her. Her lions mane was tied up in to a ponytail and she was wearing a long grape red dress that was adorned with velvet black flowers at the edges. To say that she was stunning, simply refused to give credit where it was due.

"How do I look sweetie?" She asked, eyes searching his.

"Like... er... you..." It wasn't helping that he was caught under Amelia's and Rory's warning glares but River's eyes softened and a smile graced her lips.

"So where are we going?" River asked, her arm tucked into his.

"Just you wait!" He said as they continued to walk.

They walked in relative silence until they reached where they were going.

He watched her from behind, greedily drinking in her facial expression. He knew that he certainly did not deserve River Song and that all he had done was hurt her, however, it would make him feel a lot more better if just once, he could be the reason to put a smile on her face. However, by the looks of it, she wasn't too pleased at all. Her face was blank. Completely blank. Not at all contoured by emotions.

"Have I – have I done it... is .. it bad?" He asked.

She turned back to him, wide grin on her face. Eyes shining with tears. "It's wonderful John." She says. He took her hand and squeezed it and directed her towards the ice skate rink.

 

 

He did not intend to ask her on a date – as soon as he found out that she was there, he planned to run. To leave at the earliest of convenience and to never show up to his friends birthday again. Yes, cowardly and cruel, but still. He did not like being around River Song, and at the time, sacrificing his friendship with Amelia seemed a worthy risk. However, they had started talk and flirting – fell back into old patterns way to easy for his likings. She was sat next to him in the Pond's living room and her curls were tickling his face and her hand brushed his arm and he lost his sanity for a minute and asked her out. He very well could not back out after that – her parents made sure that they glared at him which such intensity that it induced shivers through his bones and left him scared about the repercussions of hurting their daughter.

 

 

"John, why did you leave?" She asked him at the end of the night. When he wouldn't look at her or respond, she sighed and continued. "I told you that.."

"Please don't." He mumbled loosening his grip on her hand.

"Why not? Are you scared." She asked quietly, staring at him.

"Yes." He responded curtly. They stood there silently staring at each other. John tried to avoid her gaze, but could not quite turn away because he was too compelled. He could stare at her bluish grey eyes for years unfortunately. In her eyes was sadness – sadness beyond any grief that he had known, which almost seemed impossible. Yet, there was happiness there too. Was that a bit of pity that he detected as well? Eventually, he had to force himself to look away. " Did you know, this one time, in Spain, I was at this bar called Davros and they sold the worst- "

She rolled her eyes. Why did he always have to change the topic? Even if he wasn't running away from her literally, he was running away metaphorically. She takes a tighter grip of his arm - though he felt like quicksilver. He was already slipping; already gone. Never actually hers to keep.

"Sweetie, I am scared to. I'm terrified as hell. I have never had a friend before. Never been this close. I've never loved someone other than my parents before." She silently admits.

Immediately, he felt so claustrophobic despite being outside. Suddenly, the air was too dense. He let go of River – her grip was burning him. He winces at the l word. Why did she have to be so adamant in pinpointing all the fear and unease? What was so bad about blissfully ignoring it and running away so fast that those feelings can’t catch up? He wasn't being cowardly and weak – he was just surviving. Love wears down people's hearts like acid rain wears away rock. Love grips you and spins a false sickly sweet reality that you fall for. It's lost before you realize that reality is broken, bitter and lonely. Love never did anyone any good – especially not him!

River," He voice raspy and quite.

"I know." She sighed.

They walked back to the Pond's house in silence.

 

The next morning, his room was vacant and the note on a paper on his empty bed wrote a number and: _Call me sometime. Not too soon. Sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like it. It will start to pick up pace from the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

They saw the note before River. There was his number and _'Call me sometime. Not soon. Sorry.'_

Rory groaned in frustration and frowned whilst Amy rolled her eyes and sighed.

"What are we going to do?" He asked his wife.

"Why do I always have to have the answers?" She started of loudly, but upon remembering the her daughter was still asleep, she lowered her voice to a mere whisper.

"I will kill him," Rory commented. His usually soft features were hardened like stone and his face was contoured into a frown. Amy could not help but notice that it did not belong there at all. Rory – good natured, mellow and kind– would hardly ever raised his voice or lose his temper.Amy on the other hand was the hotheaded, fiery and fierce one. Despite the situation, a small smile tugged on Amy's lips. He would have been so good with their own children. Protective – able to scare away a whole army – yet a shoulder to cry on at the same time.

"Centurion, cool down will you."

"Says you." Rory smiled.

"Oh shut up stupid face. My point is that there is no point both of us going down for the idiots murder."

They laughed and he planted a kiss on his wife's forehead. He loved Amelia Pond.

Ever since he first met her, all those years ago, in University, he knew that she was most definitely the one for him. He had spent so long beating around the bushes, trying to draw her attention alone. He was always completely certain that she did not notice him and that if she did, she would have just considered him to be gay or a loser.

_"Oih stupid face!" She shouted, from across a bar after his third month of pining. By the time she reached him, his palms were clammy and his heart was beating so vigorously against his chest that he was certain that his heart would burst out. Then she smiled at him. She smiled at him and he was literally about to collapse from a smile alone. She took a grip on his arm and said, "steady on! You're practically falling about the place. Surprised to see someone more intoxicated than me here. Bye me a drink handsome," He laughed nervously when she said handsome. Him? She really was drunk? He was about to correct her about him being intoxicated – he hadn't drunk any alcohol at all. But then, when she sat next to him, her shoulder brushing his, he realised that she was right. He was intoxicated; intoxicated by love._

_He helped her back to her dorm room and gave her a small kiss on the cheek before leaving. He was practically glowing inside – never had he been so lucky and happy. However there was a gutted feeling too. The perfect girl for him would probably wake up with a horrible hangover and a murky memory – she probably would not remember him at all._

_She approached him the next day, insisting that he owed her a proper date He'd never been so happy that he was wrong. She gave him a chance all those years ago, and he never let go._

The stood there content in their kitchen in each other's presence for minutes, before remembering that they had a pressing situation at hand.

"What will we do?" Amy suddenly asked, pulling away. "We could hide the note and tell her that we told him to leave because we didn't think he was good enough."

"There is no we in this. It's all you Amy. After all, he was your childhood friend, not mine. Plus, she'd wouldn't believe you."

"Hmmmm.... well... we could... we could... I don't know Rory!"

"Amy, Rory what are you doing conversing at this ungodly hour? Some people actually like sleep Well I was trying to sleep." River said, shuffling in groggily in her night gown.

  
Amy made a quick attempt to hide the note in her palms. Way too brightly, she said "Morning River. Did you have a nice rest?"

"John is gone, hasn't he? For the past week now, I've been woke up by his incessant babbling to himself. He really does like the sound of his own voice, that man. Then yesterday, he admitted that he was scared of what we had and talked about Spain and Nigeria and Germany and I could feel him already running away from me. Whilst he was still there. He left a note, didn't he? What does his note say?"

Amy stared at her daughter – she always was intelligent and quick to catch on. However, her voice had been so clinical, as if she was talking as a matter of fact. As if she was rather indifferent and neutral. Her face was carefully masked of emotions and not even her eyes revealed the pain that ensnared her heart. She knew that River could be distant and cold, but completely mechanic? And over a man?

"That bastard John," she growled. "I will bloody kill him, I promise you River." She handed her daughter the note and to her surprise, she smiled. It was a small smile and it would have gone totally unnoticed if Amy had not dedicated years to studying her daughters microexpressions. But it was a smile.

"Please don’t say you are actually going to call?" Rory asked, stealing the thoughts right out of Amy's head.

"It's like smoking really."

"No it is not, unless it is a euphemism. In that case, I really don't want to hear what you are going to say." Said Amy sternly.

"Mother, let me finish! It is like smoking okay? You take the first puff and it feels good whilst your smoking. Then afterwards, it leaves you feeling completely dreadful and disgusting and you think, never again will I smoke. Somewhere along the line, you look back and think, crap, I really can't stop. It is so bad for me but I need a cigarette in my life. I need it to intoxicate me. I just need it. And it is scary, because you cannot explain why at all and before you started smoking, you were fine and didn't need to smoke. Why did that change all of a sudden? It's scary, but being without the cigarette once you've started is the worst and hardest thing."

"No, I am a bit confused... Have you started smoking, because you know, nicotene is a carcinogen and it makes your teeth..." Rory began.

"No." She sighed, a tad bit too frustrated, which her mother would have told her off for, if River was in a better state.. She closed her eyes for a couple seconds. "Loving John. It is like smoking. He is so bad for me. He leaves me broken. I know it is stupid and it has not been long at all, but I … I need him."

Her parents stared, wide eyed and surprised as she crossed the kitchen to make coffee and sat at the breakfast table. They had wanted their own child. They wanted capture all the little but significant moments in their memories. Their child's first: wobbly steps; first word; day of school, smile and all the other many firsts. Initially, when they decided to let River stay, it hurt so immensely that they would not get that opportunity. That she was already half baked and hardened by the tough world. Overtime, it did not matter as much. The gradually accepted that grieving over something that was not yours could only impede you appreciating all that was yours.

Now, however, looking at their daughter, they realized that they did have quite a lot of memories. River was taking her first wobbly steps in a way. She was opening her heart up to love. She had actually made a friend – even if he was a complete idiot. Their baby was growing up and she was hurt and Amy and Rory were not sure whether they should be proud and let her stand on her own two feet or if they should be trying to protect her from the outside world.

 

It took ridiculously long to escape to her room as her parents had become all sentimental and decided that they need to do something as a family – not that she minded. When she was did, she put John's note, with the other one in her small blue diary that took everywhere. It hurt that John had left – so in a way, she was forever always carrying the pain with her. . She had never really written in the book. She had received it for her 16th birthday from her parents and for years, it was more of a decoration for the mantelpiece. Just there to look pretty. However, once she had met John, she felt compelled to meticulously record their – whatever it was they had. Now, it had become their book.

She was not as broken this time around – or so she willed herself to believe. It had become apparent on the first day that when John Smith was around, she played by different rules. She was no longer a soldier in a war, fighting just because she knew nothing else. She was less in control around John – her heart belonged to him. Though she couldn't stop and put her life on hold when he wasn't around. Yes, she was in love, but she refused to let her whole life revolve around a man. She refused to yearn or cry for him. If he wanted to keep his distance, then fine. She'd put on a smile and throw herself into work and adventure and travel just like she always had.

 

_Two years later_

It was River's idea that they adopt a baby. Amy was unsure. She had always wanted a child but now the prospect of actually having a baby seemed daunting. She couldn't help but consider the many practicalities. What if she just did not know what to do? What if Edinburgh wasn't the best place to raise up a child? What if she could not balance working and bringing up a child? And what if, she never really wanted a child? What if she wanted to have a child just because Rory wanted to? However, both Rory and River had reassured her that it would be alright. That was an inherent trait in mothers to be but they'd be okay after. After all – River joked – she was homeless girl turned archaeology professor as a result of their guidance and love. She'd reminded them that they were not the type of parents to lavish her with gifts and toys, but she got their attention which was all she really needed and wanted.

That was how they ended up with their son Anthony.

Although it had been River's idea, she wasn't initially keen on her parents sharing their love with another child. However, she'd planned to travel the world for a year before accepting a job as an archeology professor and it hurt her heart to think of them as all alone without their child.

She figured that he'd be travelling to. After all, he hardly ever stayed still. Perhaps she could bump into him? After all, he wouldn’t pick up to any of her calls so her only chance of contact was seeing him. She had subtly, in conversation with her parents told them this and asked if they had any idea about his whereabouts. Amy glared at her and Rory was unusually blunt – John wasn't worth the time, effort and love. Eventually, Amy had come around and helped her to contact a friend who knew a friend who knew someone who may know where John was.

That was how she found herself in France.

Apparently, John was fond of a little restaurant in Paris and always went there a couple times when he went France. She checked all the hotels near the restaurant. Luckily for her, none of the hotel receptionist could resist her suggestive smile and curl eyes – all agreeing to call her if they saw a man that matched her description. As she had expected, John was more predictable than he thought he was, because he did indeed stay in one of the hotels near the restaurant. That was how she found herself breaking into a hotel room using a hanger.

 

When John had returned to his hotel that night, he was startled to find a sleeping River lying in his bed. He groaned silently at her presence. This was not good. This was not good at all. John had tried to be careful; tried to submerge himself in the shadows and to be scarce. That was why he never answered her calls. He'd thought that she'd think he was an arsehole and move on. But no. The maverick of a lady had searched him out and he was in trouble. However, he could not keep the grin from surfacing on his face. Many people had tried to seek him out before and never had he allowed himself to be found unless he wanted to. River Song, however, was different. Yes, being around her was dangerous territory, but what is unconsciously, John had decided that she was a risk he was willing to take? Now, he was too tired to think – for now, all he could do was go to sleep and leave everything for future John to deal with.

River woke up on a bed that wasn't her own – though it was not exactly the first time as strange things happened when boredom struck. For a second, she felt a pang of panic upon realizing that John was not besides her. What if he saw her and run? She looked around the room – there was not a trace that anyone actually resided there. She heaved herself up to examine the adjacent room. That still was barren and bland – no sign of him. Perplexed and maybe a little hurt, she sighed. Maybe she'd got it all wrong? She reached for the front door to leave so she could forget all about her plan to see him. However, the door refused to open. She pulled the door handle with a much power as she could muster, but to no avail. She sighed furstratedly – not that she did not like a little bit of spontaneity and adventure, but at that moment, she'd rather be at a pub somewhere, drowning her sorrows.

Initially, she was too busy thinking about how to escape that she did not hear the laughing on the other side of the door. However, when she did, her eyebrows furrowed into a frown, but her hearts leaped. It had been so so so long – but still, she could remember his chuckle. Still, it did things to her; made her feel warm inside.

"I hate you!" She growled, though more relieved that she was angry.

"No you don't," He said as he opened the door.

Before she could control herself, she pulled John into a hug and kissed him on the cheek. Quickly, as she had hugged him, she pulled away and punched him in his arm. He winced and before he could try to complain, she started " that was for only picking up one of my calls." She punched him again playfully and said "That was for staying away for so long!"

He feigned agony as he winced again. "Oh, you're such a dangerous girl to mess with."

"It would do you good to remember that for next time, otherwise the punishment may be more severe."

She rolled his eyes as he stuttered and pulled his hand into hers. If he noticed that touching alone, created such a burning sensation, like River had noticed, then he did not mention.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"Oh, that is such a boring question, but since you asked, you're taking me on a second date,"

He gulped and stiffened a bit. She rolled her eyes and glanced at him sideways. "It's not as if I'm asking you to marry me and be the father to my children. I just want a bit of fun," She said as nonchalantly as she possible. She was certain that it must have come out that way, because immediately John had softened and resumed to his flirty, carefree nature. River really could be good at feigning emotions from time to time, because holding John's hand she was falling more and more in love; letting her guard down more and more and though she told him that she wasn't asking him to marry her, she wish he'd ask.

They re entered John's hotel room that evening, head spinning, and hearts light.

"River! You are impossible!" He laughed, face raw and red.

"I didn’t like their ratatouille and their French bread was hard."

"It was supposed to be that way. You needn't have caused a riot. The chefs were scared when you entered and tried to fix their ratatouille. It didn’t help that you poured a whole bottle of oil on it!"

"Well, you were certainly no better when you tried to take a whole bottle of salt and ended up crashing their mini aquarium!"

Feigning indignation, he replied "That would not have happened if you hadn't spoiled the ratatouille by adding all that oil. I was trying to help by bringing in salt. Now I will never be able to go to my favorite French restaurant. I hope you are happy! But honestly, the sight of you over that pot, was like a witch over a cauldron!"

"I am an archeologist, not a chef."

"Though, at least you apologized."

"Which is more than I can say for you! Though of course I apologized. I am a psychopath, not rude!"

Before they realised what was happening, they found themselves sitting on the hotel bed.

Neither of them could deny – they had an amazing time together. John had never had company whenever he traveled, but that day had left him asking himself why? He felt lighter than he usually did – the burden on loneliness, less prominent than usual. He could not deny the fiery feeling inside of him each time her curls brushed him or she got too close for comfort. He had thought that he had lost all such emotions, but obviously, he was wrong. However, like fire, he was burning up. The smoke was rising rapidly and it was suffocating him and he was struggling to heave in air. She was deadly and dangerous and he was scared but also, a stupid and sentimental part of him was embracing it.

"I guess, I will sleep on the couch and you-" he said awkwardly, suddenly remembering the position that they were in.

"There is enough space for the both of us," River said with a suggestive smile.

He gulped and moved further away from River who was staring at him.

"Plus, who says it is time to sleep?"

"Look River, I – I... I do not want that sort of relationship. I like you. You're a great friend, so let's not ruin this by..."

She looks at him wide eyed with surprise. "I wasn't suggesting anything. I don't put out after the second date. I'm a classy lady. I was going to suggest talking. Learning who you are. Learning what I am."

He laughed – he knew those lines. He was not a stranger to poetry. Though it was rather ironic that the poetry actually depicted his situation. Settling into the bed, he continued " I'm a hostage. I'm marooned."

"I’m in Paris with the slightest thing you do. I’m in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,I’m in Paris with… all points south. Am I embarrassing you? I’m in Paris with you." She grinned. "Tell me about yourself."

"Well, I like to travel."

She rolled her eyes. "Something I don’t know. Something painful and sad." He shifted a little in unease, which River immediately sensed.

"A story for a story. I'll start. Deal?"

He looked at her at little hesitant and she frowned a little. "John, I know very well that soon you'll leave me and that I won't see you for a long time anyway, It is not as if you will stay for me to pity or love or mend you." She whispered morosely. He stared at her, wide eyed. She knew that he'd leave her – it was becoming such a habit now. However, he was surprised that he actually for a minute wanted to stay so that she could love and mend him. He had no idea what he wanted these days – no actually, his heart wanted someone his brain couldn't allow him to.

"Fine, go on."

"I grew up in an orphanage. They were horrible there. It was more of a cult, the way the staff would force us to do stuff. Stealing, hurting people. It was wrong but all of us were children and how can you learn that there is goodness and happiness and love in the world when all you have been exposed to from birth is untempered hate? I escaped when I was 15 years and I met Amy and Rory who adopted me. I was so reluctant at first. I kept thinking that the abandon me ot get bored, so I made myself scarce and refused to let them love me. Then, I started to try to make them hate me by getting into all sorts of trouble. I got into fights – I won them obviously. I stole stuff. I was a wild reckless psychopath but their love changed me,"

She gazed into his eyes with such intensity that he was compelled to hug her or kiss her; he just wanted her close. Instead, he maintained his distance. After several seconds, he spoke.

"Truth is, I never felt at home anywhere so I felt the need to make the universe my home. My parents never really wanted a child. They had me and they kept dumping me on other people. I was always too smart for the other kids who were all scared. Then I met Amy and she was also marginalized. Such an imagination she had and we became friends and as soon as I could leave home, I did. I have made friends. I think I am cursed though I lose friends so easily and quickly. Something always happens to them. One of my friends, Clara, tried to push me out of the way of a lorry. It killed her instead. I am cursed to lose people and so I make myself scarce."

River offers him a sad smile and her expression is mirrored.

"So that is why you run?" River finally asks after minutes of silence, to which he nods to.

"River Song, you scare me, because I have never been this close to a person and I feel like already, you're a ghost and lost."

She hugs him – silently falling more in love with him than she thought was possible. They sat together silently until they fell asleep in each others arms.

This time, when he left, he kissed her on the cheek. He'd thought she was sleeping, but she was feigning sleep. He whispered, and she strained to hear. Instead of feeling abandoned and hurt and broken like she did when he left, she felt her heart do backflips. She was filled with unadulterated happiness that refused to be tainted by bitterness and sadness.

_I love you._

She did not find his note until days later. He must have hidden it in her bag when she wasn't watching.

 _'Until the next time,"_ it wrote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this bit, when River says learning who you are, the lines are from the poem, In Paris with you, written by James Fenton. (See below)  
> I thought it would be appropriate, as they were in Paris and there is the innuendo with all points south that I could not help but add.  
> This was supposed to be the chapter where he was supposed to stop running, where he'd actually stay, but then I changed my mind. Here is a tiny little spoiler for the next chapter. There will be angst. (If I am able to pull it off.) 
> 
> "Look River, I – I... I do not want that sort of relationship. I like you. You're a great friend, so let's not ruin this by..."
> 
> She looks at him wide eyed with surprise. "I wasn't suggesting anything. I don't put out after the second date. I'm a classy lady. I was going to suggest talking. Learning who you are. Learning what I am."
> 
> He laughed – he knew those lines. He was not a stranger to poetry. Though it was rather ironic that the poetry actually depicted his situation. Settling into the bed, he continued " I'm a hostage. I'm marooned."
> 
> "I’m in Paris with the slightest thing you do. I’m in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,I’m in Paris with… all points south. Am I embarrassing you? I’m in Paris with you." She grinned. "Tell me about yourself."
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. :)


	4. Chapter 4

  
  
_A year later_  
  
She was rather excited to start her new job as a professor at Oxford. Yes, it was rather mellow and bland compared to travelling all over the place and disinterring relics from the ground. However, inspiring the younger generations by passing on her knowledge of all the amazing artefacts the world had to hide was exciting to. She could not travel as much now, but that didn't bother her too much. 

  
The main downside of teaching was having a boss like Mr Lux. He was the head of the archaeology and history department and an eye sore to say the least. Though he was hideous, he would have been able to tolerate him if his personality was amiable. However, his personality was much to her distaste.

  
"You stay here. I need to go collect the other new member of staff," he said as soon as they entered the Archeology and history staff room and River had never been more happy to get rid of someone. She sat quietly on the chair by the coffee machine. She was fully aware of the other staff glancing at her curiously, but she ignored their not so subtle interest. It was not that she was shy, after all, confidence oozed out of her every word. It was just that she did not feel inclined to be friendly unless there was a practical advantage or fun to be had.

  
River was so deep in thought that when the door opened, bringing a slight breeze, babbling and another more people, she hadn't noticed.

  
"Hello everyone," her head jolted up at the sound of Mr Lux's irritating voice. "I just wanted to introduce you all to our two new members of staff. River Song, Archeology professor and John Smith, History professor." 

  
Her ears were ringing. John Smith – perfectly ordinary name... could have been a coincidence... perhaps, but... she scanned the room, just looking at everyone's faces. When she spotted a tall man with chocolate brown hair, a little falling over his matching brown eyes, her heart skipped a beat. It took her a minute to register that he is actually physically literally there in front of her. However, once the initial shock has subsided, she is snapped out of her stupor and drinks him in properly. Tweed, as always and a bowtie he thought was cool, but most certainly wasn't. If she did not know his face so well, she would not have noticed the subtle signs of aging. She took a look at his eyes and realized that they were staring straight at each other. Once he had got her attention, he looked away and blushed profusely. She could not help but feel a warm.

  
*

  
After she had seen him in the staff room, River Song did not see John for the least two weeks. They had both been so busy integrating themselves with the world of teaching that they barely had time. Then one day, she entered her lecture hall and found a note on the table.

  
_'See me 6:00, staff room please_ ," It had said. She beamed when she saw the note, instantly recognizing the horrendously messy handwriting. She immediately slotted it into her blue book and for the rest of the day, there was a spring in her step. 

  
When she arrived, her galloped towards her and she had to force herself not to laugh. John was so ridiculous that he resembled a child. The other members of staff who were now well acquainted with John's exuberant personality didn't really notice. It was typical John bouncing about. Nothing new there. He pulled at her hand and they walked in silence to his room. As soon as she was seated, she fixed John with a questioning gaze. He had seemed to forget himself and was surprised to see her there. 

"I want... I want to do this properly," He blurted out. 

  
"What?" She asked a small smile curving on her lips.   
  
"Basically, River, are you taken? If not, then would... would you like to be my girlfriend? I am not forcing you, but..."

"Are you asking?"  
  
"Yes,"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No, hang on. Do you think I was asking if you're taking or if I want you to be my girlfriend?"  
  
"Yes,"  
  
"Yes... or or yes?"  
  
She leaned in closer – a delighted smile on her face. Oh, she had missed messing with John and all the flirting. "Yes"  
  
"River Song, you're an impossible woman."  
  
"Perfect fit for an impossible man," she retorted before pulling him in to kiss him.

  
*

  
They had actually managed to live in domestic bliss for the rest of that year. Teaching during the day, having dinner together in the evenings and waking up at each others sides in the morning. Things were not perfect – far from it. John was a natural born runner. He was shrouded by the poisonous fumes of love, so naturally, once in a while, he felt like escaping. Though, in those moments, he settled for a jog around a park or something – she had told him so long ago, that she was scared as well. They were both scared and if she could be strong for him, he could be strong for her. After every jog, he'd return to River and she'd gaze at him – she was always full of accusation for something he hadn’t done. At those times, he wanted to shout at her that at least he returned, but held his tongue.

  
He wasn't always at fault though – the concept of a relationship was novel to Melody. Though she loved him fervently, she seemed to hold the believe that his love was fragile and would disappear easily if she gave him a reason. As a result, where John was, River was never without her make up. She'd always have a smile fastened on her face. There were the occasions where he caught her looking downcast or glaring at him, but when he tried to engage in conversation, more often than not, she'd change topics by flirting. Therefore, when she was upset or sad or feeling negative, River Song was quite the enigma which frustrated John immensely.

  
However, they'd be having dinner. She'd laugh at something he said and she'd have gazing at her, completely enthralled by her soft mellow voice. He'd argue with her – being deliberately annoying, just as always – and she'd feel her heart pounding and warmth radiating through her. They both adored all the small things that each other did – these things cultivated and though neither wished to admit it, it had become what they lived for. Yes, they had their problems, but their love was enough.

  
*

  
It was all going so well. River had actually entertained the idea that things would continue to progress in that way. How stupid and foolish she had been! She had allowed herself to believe that the war was finally over. That peace was a possibility. As a result, she stripped herself of all her defenses. As if that was not bad enough, she practically walked into no man land and held her hands to draw attention to herself. That was what she felt like, because she was finally happy. Now, the opposition was closing in on her.

  
She tried to steady her breathing, it was not helping at all because she was still crying – pretty much howling – like a wounded animal.

  
Eventually, John returned. He twisted the key in the keyhole and tried to push the door open but it refused to budge. After a minute, he heard an ugly sound. It sounded as if someone was trying to heave in air, but was failing. Sounded desperate and immensely sad. Was that River crying?

  
"What is wrong my dear?" John asked. He too was in a panicked state. Usually, the way River Song dealt with feelings was by keeping them close to her chest or by carefully composing her face so that no one would notice. He'd never heard or seen her cry.  
  
"Please let me in!" He responded when she did not reply.

  
He sighed heavily. He knew very well that his girlfriend was very stubborn and so there was no point in pushing her before she was ready to tell him what the problem was – if she'd ever be ready. Instead of continuing to try, he sat behind the door and waited. Waited. Was this what she did every time he was absent? Did she hold her emotions in and then cry out in the silence? He could not help but feel a little bit angry – a feeling which was instantly thwarted when he listened to his girlfriends attempts to steady herself. He'd have time when she wasn't crying to be upset, hurt and angry about her inability to share her feelings with him.

  
Eventually, after a couple hours, the door had fell ajar.

  
"Can I come in?" He asked.

  
"Yes," she said in a small voice, unlike her own.

  
The room was dark and she was stood back turned to him. Immediately, he put his arms around her and held her silently. For a minute, she was stiff in his hands; refused to relent. After a while, she struggled out of his grip and moved as far away from him as possible.

  
"River, darling," He said morosely. "What is the matter?"

  
She laughed – he was sure that it was an attempt to make light of the situation. However, cold and bitter – borderline hysterical. He watched her from behind as she took a few deep breaths, unsure of what to do or say. Did he continue probing her or did he wait patiently or attempt to hug her? Before he could decide what to do, she had begin to speak again.

  
"John," She said wearily. "I'm so sorry. I am so so sorry. Forgive me my love,"

  
"River, I could never ever be angry at you." He said, taking steps towards her. Now he was behind her again. He attempted to hold her again and this time, she melted into his embrace.

  
"Wh- wh – why did you insist that we needed to give us a go?" She asked wobbly and uncertainly.

  
"What?" He asked perplexed. He was completely unsure where this was all going.

  
"Why – why didn't you... why didn't you run this time?"

  
He couldn't very well give her the honest answer, after all, that would do nothing to console her. When he'd seen her in the staff room, he felt like a groom with cold feet. All he wanted to do was run as fast as the wind would carry him. He loved River Song. He loved her. He was in love and he always lost people he loved and so he couldn't – just couldn't do it all again. Without even realized, he'd dialed Amelia Pond and he was blurting his heart out. After he'd finished, she sighed heavily and spoke silently and slowly as if he were a child. "Look, love needn't be scary. Look at Rory and I. It's not fragile or weak. It is the only thing that keeps you going at the end. You can live without love, sure. It hurts, I know. But it mends you too. It reaches the places you never thought the light would see and it mends you John. And if you can't love River the way she loves you, at least have the decency to bloody tell her that this time. For her own sake. "  
  
He'd considered her words. They danced in his brain for two weeks. At first, their moments were sharp and piercing. However, as his brain warmed to the idea. The words moved in a more refined way. Perhaps Amelia was right? After all, she could be wise when she was sober.

  
"Because, you are worth staying for," He simply said. It wasn't a lie, though wasn't the exact truth anyway.

  
After a couple moments, she whispered "Why couldn't you have just left me be? Every time you leave me, I'm more broken and I cannot bear it!" 

  
"I am not going to leave this time,"

  
"You will,"

  
"River, " he said softly.

  
"You will, once I tell you."

  
"Tell me what?" He asked.  
  
"Amy and Rory would be so happy. It is ironic how these things work. They would have wanted this so much. So bloody much and they would have seen it as such a miracle. I'd rather her fall victim, not me. How the hell could this happen? I did not want this. I am supposed to be a strong independent woman. I don’t need anything or anyone to weigh me down,"

  
John would have commented on how she was rambling – which was usually her thing – if she were not sad. However, he held his tongue.

  
"John... I... I am pregnant." She whispered. His first instinct was to let go, but he fought against the urge and held her tighter. "And I know.... And I know that this means you will leave me, because lets face it, you were never one to stick around. I mean, I told you I loved you and you ran like the wind." 

  
John had absolutely know idea what to think or feel. On some level, he felt a little bit sheepish and shameful because she was indeed right. He was the man who ran and this was huge. Absolutely huge. He was to be a father and that scared the hell out of him. However, he felt a little indignant as well. After all, he could not very well leave his child and the mother to his child. Hadn't he just told her that she was worth staying for?! Was he supposed to feel happy though? That in nine months a small human would come out of his girlfriend and they would be entirely responsible? Then he'd be in a perpetual state of fear – what if he did something wrong and screwed up his child?

  
"See, look at you now, you can't even look at me!" She howled, whilst distancing herself from him.

  
He didn't register at all when he crossed the room and thrust his arms around her shoulders and held her tightly. He gently stroked her curls and whispered in her ear, "I'm not going anywhere. We will get through this together,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My intention was to make the ending of this chapter angsty with the Doctor leaving again. However, I decided that for now, they'd be okay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter may be distressing as it depicts death. I have put the paragraph in bold so that if you want, you can miss it. It is not really important for the whole of the story. It really just adds to the back story of one of the characters. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> I decided to add another chapter after this one (because I do not want to be mean and end this here).

 

They woke up the next morning, on the floor, in each others arms. Somehow, they had grown exhausted and forgot to get into bed.

"John," she said wearily.

"Yes dear," he replied quietly.

"My head hurts,"

"Hangover," he joked.

"I wish," she whispered. "What will we do?"

"Get breakfast,"

"About it, I mean!" She asked, slightly annoyed.

"Not it. He or she." He replied gently. "You cannot call your own child an it!"

"Right now, it is a ball of cells. Do we keep it?"

He was hesitant. That was the question, hidden in plane sight. He had hoped that it never would be asked, so that he'd never have to answer that question, because the answer ungrateful to reject it.

"Let us get breakfast," he replied, though not answering our question.

"We need to discuss what we need to do!" She said firmly, releasing herself from her grip.

"It does not have to be now," he replied wearily.

"John, why do you always have to run away from things! What is so bad about tackling things as they come? If we leave it for later... I can't bear pretending that this is not happening and putting on a brave face,"

"You do that already, so it wouldn't be a problem to continue," John replied curtly to which she frowned to.

"There is absolutely no point talking to you. You're so bloody useless," she huffed.

"We need to take this day by day. We have a long day of work ahead of us and . We will discuss things, of course we will, but small steps," ignoring her.

She glared at him. Not relenting until he presses a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"Fine, we'll do breakfast first,"

 

"So, are we keeping it?" She asked once breakfast was over. John gave her a wary look, which she ignored. The air in the room was tense and there was no avoiding the situation.

"I … don't know."

"That is not a good enough answer. I want a yes or no,"

"Well what are you thinking?" He asked.

"I don't know either," she responded quietly.

"We can't just get rid of our child," he reasoned.

"But I am not ready," she replied.

"But are parents ever ready? Don’t they just make it up as they go along?" John replied, from experience.

"Hmmm, I guess so. Amy and Rory were so confused about whether taking me in was a good idea or not."

"And I guess they know now that they made the right decision,"

"So we should keep it? Even though we are scared and not prepared and even though this wasn't planned?"

Still unable to commit to a yes or no, John replied, "Look, we have around 24 weeks to decide... Let us keep it for now and let future us deal with this,"

 

 

"John, say something," They were sat in her car, outside the hospital. River was trembling a little and her eyes were sore with tears and unfocused. She was in no fit state to drive anywhere.

However, he stubbornly refused to look or talk to her.

They sat in the tense silence for around half an hour. The air around them was sultry and dense and slowly she was suffocating. However, at the time, it did not seem a cruel fate, given the devastating news that was broke to them that morning. Neither of them attempted to force communication - their grief was too heavy to articulate in words.

Eventually, River was all out of tears. Reluctantly, she reached out her hand and placed it on John's knee. John practically flinched almost instantly and so she quickly removed her hand and placed her hands in her lap.

"John... it's not my fault," She whispered wearily.

"I know." He said, finally staring straight at her. The grief had seemed to age him decades. His eyes shone, but not out of the curiousness or excitement – but with unshed tears. He was John, but he hardly resembled her childish, giddy and ridiculous boyfriend. Or was it that her eyes were deliberately disregarding youth and happiness and paying more attention to grief and sorrow? She wanted to caress his face and to hold him until all the pain and hurt dissolved. However, she was worried that if she tried to initiate contact again, that he'd brush her off.

"I remember what you said the night I told you. We can get through this together,"

"What if there is no coming back from this?" He asked almost pleading. Pleading for her to give him false hope because he was scared as hell and he did not know how to go from her. She willed herself to believe, for his sake. However, her expression just mirrored his.

"We could – we – could always try again?" She said uncertainly and wobbly. The Doctor had after all pointed out that miscarriages were random and it did not mean that you could never have a baby. That did nothing to comfort either of them. Better luck next time, was how it sounded to John, and he never did believe in luck. If there was such a think, then it certainly wasn't on his side. He was convinced that if they did try again, the same yhing would happen, over and over and over again. He'd lose his baby. He certainly couldn't bare through the pain again. River too, wasn't keen. The loss was more devastating for her, given that her daughter was growing in her. Given that she fed her and felt her kick. She got so attached.

"River, I need some fresh air," he said, pulling open the car door and leaving.

River sat in the drivers seat, feeling dejected. She wanted to howl in pain; to smash stuff and self destruct until the pain subsided. How could fate be so cruel and brutal? Yes, she had not wanted any of this to begin with, but as time wore on, she had decided that perhaps having a child was the best things ever. Fate, disgruntled, had to snatch the good thing away. Because in her belly, where life had once grown, was now hollow and barren.

 

 

John could not pinpoint his exact feeling at the moment. It was somewhere in between anger, rage, pain, hurt, emptiness and coldness. He felt as if, inside him was a hurricane. It vigorously collided against everything. He didn't even realize, but he was running. He had no idea where he was heading and when he'd stop.

 

She told John that it wasn't her fault, but couldn't believe it herself. As far as she was concerned, she was culpable for the loss of their child. Yes, she hadn't smoked or drunk alcohol at all. She tried to eat healthily and avoided anything too strenuous. She had tried, but perhaps not hard enough, because her baby was lost. How could she ever forgive herself? A sudden thought struck her, that made her want to cry even more. It made her want to disappear into the cracks in the pavement or do something desperate and drastic to make sure no one was ever burdened by her existence again.

Amy and Rory had been immensely happy that they were going to have children. Amy had learned knitting, just so that she could make their child his or her first blanket. Rory had detailed how he'd take their grandchild along with Anthony to parks and football matches. They were happy that her daughter was finally settling down and that she did not have to face the devastation of not being able to have children. River could not bear to tell them that the past 20 weeks, they had just been lent false hope. It would break their hearts and she couldn't.

 

Everything had been fine two weeks ago. They'd went for the ultrasound together. Amy and Rory had insisted that they came with them but River had refused.

The Doctor had spread a liquid on River's bare tummy and soon enough, there was a black, grey and white picture on the screen. John's heart pretty much stopped for a couple seconds because he was so overcome with love for his unborn child and the mother to his child.

"Your daughter," the doctor has said. "is healthy and 18 weeks old,"

River and John had left hand in hand, beaming. It all seemed so surreal but nevertheless, amazing.

**(DON'T READ THE NEXT TWO PARAGRAPHS IN BOLD IF YOU DON'T LIKE READING ABOUT DEATH)**

**He had dreaded the prospect of a second chance. What if he messed up again? What if he just wasn't ready or just wasn't meant to be a father again? What if he lost this child too? He'd lost his little boy many years ago. He was twenty, drunk and stupid and had a one night stand with a girl at his university. Nine months later, he was holding his child. He loved him so much and it felt so right, even though he had no idea how he'd provide for him at all. Jack, however, had died in his cot, a year later.**

**Rose – Jack's mother – had insisted that it wasn't his fault – through tears and that these things happened and that at least their child was in heaven, unblemished by the cruel world. However, John could not be consoled. He didn't believe in heaven – in his opinion, his child was six feet under the ground in a small box. And even though, practically everyone he talked to have told him that it certainly was not his fault – he wasn't to know – he still carried the burden of guilt. He was the one who'd insisted that they take their child swimming as soon as he was born because babies can swim instinctively. It had been fine all the times prior. However, that day, he drowned. He struggled to breathe as the water dripped into his lungs and after a while, his lips had turned a pale blue. They thought he was asleep. However, he had drowned in his cot. John did not understand – it did not make sense at all, but according to the doctor, dry drowning occurred rarely, but it happened.**

**(ENDS's HERE!)**

 

After three hours, sat in her car, attempting to steady herself, River started to drive. She'd go back home, find John and they'd talk over about what happened next. How to go from there and what to tell her parents. She was still feeling a little bit numb with pain, however, like John had told her, they would get through this together.

"John," she called when she arrived, but he did not answer. Perhaps he had went out to a pub or something to drown his sorrows – she wouldn't blame him, she felt like doing so. She flicked on the light and sighed heavily. She wished that John was her. She needed a hug. She needed him to tell her that everything would be alright. She needed him. She put on her phone and dialed him. Straight to voice mail. She groaned, a bit annoyed that her idiot boyfriend would leave his phone of agt a time like this. Purposely, she thought with no doubt. She resigned to just going into their room and lying down until he returned.

When she reached her room, she stared at it for a little bit. Something... something was different. Something she would have realized instantly if her mind was not fogged by grieve. She flung herself onto her and lay there motionless for a couple minutes. Then she caught sight of the paper on the small table beside her bed. She sat up and took the paper, reading what was written on it.

Quickly, she tossed that paper on the floor and raced out her of her room and back into it. Finally, she had noticed. John's stuff usually littered the floors and tables and though it gave the house a haphazard feel, she loved it still. However, everything was gone. Gone. Everything was gone.

 _'I am so sorry. I cannot do this. I really cannot. I had to go. Don’t expect to see me again River. It was great whilst this lasted but I just cannot..._ " she read again and again until the words were smudged. The words whizzed around in her head until she decided that she'd put an end to everything. River Song had not touched alcohol in twenty weeks, as not to harm her daughter. However, now when she was gone and John too, she was quite alright with drinking herself to an oblivion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst, I know, :( But there is a chapter left so don't cry yet.


	6. Chapter 6

The hospital had her back to do more tests two weeks later - just in case, they said. Amy had insisted that she follow her daughter, but River, the more stubborn of the two refused to allow her mother be present telling her that was more better use of her time than simply waiting for her. Amy backed down easily as she heard her daughters unspoken words. If she John was not besides her then she did not want anyone to be.

  
A couple weeks later, she received a letter which made her laugh. It was a harsh bitter sound at how cruel and ironic the world could be. Rory and Amy looked at her perplexed so she thrust the letter in Amy's and Rory's direction and stormed out of the room.

  
Infertile – she was to suffer her mother's fate. Apparently, that the first egg was fertilized and survived twenty weeks was sheer luck. She was distraught at first because after her loss, what she craved more then ever was her own family. However, after a while, she allowed herself to belief that perhaps every thing was the best. After all, she did not anyway she didn't have John and she was too scarred and broken to willingly allow herself to fall for anyone. Also, having a child came with carrying the child for nine months. It came with perpetual eating and fear about the slightest movement. It came with actually dedicating time to playing and teaching and guiding the child. It came with so much responsibility and love. And maybe, River was too psychopathic and selfish for that? Perhaps, that she was robbed of the chance to have a family, was a blessing because it meant that she didn't have opportunity to screw up.  
  
  
  
She'd decided to stay with her parents until the new teaching term started. Yes, she was going back to teach. She'd probably never have the misfortunes of meeting him again. Knowing John, he would have quit. He would probably be somewhere nice, doing whatever the hell he wanted without her and she was just fine with that!

  
At the moment, John was a prohibited topic. Her parents refused to mention him at all, or even acknowledged his existence. At least whilst she was there. When she was gone – or rather more, when they thought that she was out of earshot – they would whisper silently about how he had broken River and concocted plans to find him and punish him. It increasingly frustrated River that they felt as if they had to tip toe around egg shells. However, every time, she felt like screaming and shouting, she allowed herself to be restrained, for the simple fact that they thought that they were doing what was best for her.

  
If they did ask her though, she would have told it to them straight. He broke her heart. They would mildly aghast at her bluntness. She'd continue to tell them that for the first week, she cried a bit and she had no idea how to move on. She was convinced that without him, she'd be merely living her half life. Amy would wince and Rory's fist would clench, furious that John had wormed his way into River's heart. At which point, they'd start talking about how they would kill John – no doubt, Rory would yet again bring up the point that he has a sword. She'd roll her eyes and tell them that she was not yet finished. She'd tell them that after a while, she felt pathetic for crying. Weak. She picked herself up and dusted her backside. She realized that for the past six years, all John had ever did was mess around with her heart. He played with it callously, as if it were a foot ball. Kicking it away, as soon as it reached him. She'd let him do that, because she thought that he loved her – he had said so. However, now, she realised her mistake. She was a solider – never could she gain from letting her defenses down and fighting on behalf of someone else. Things perhaps happened for a reason, she'd conclude. She had her heart broken but learnt the hard way.

  
However, the didn’t ask, so she didn’t say and they continued treating her like a child until she went back to work.  
  
  
She returned to teaching the October that followed and quickly fell into a mundane pattern of: waking up, coffee, teaching, lunch, teaching, coffee marking and falling asleep amidst the work. Though it was terribly mundane, it was just what she needed. She was back where they spent most of the year prior so the place still carried his scent and everything was dust laden with sentiment. However, distraction – or death by work, as she sometimes dubbed it - meant that she failed to notice anything connected to him.  
*  
_January_

  
"You," Called out the man. He had quite a pretty face. Brown hair matching his eyes. Perhaps a six pack hidden under all that leather? River stopped in her tracks and turned to him frowning.

  
"Me?" She asked.

  
"Yes you," he said, advancing towards her.

  
"What do you want?" She asked curtly.

  
"I'm Ramone, technician,"

  
"Don't care, don't want to know," she replied just as she was about to leave.

  
"No wait, don't go, what do you study here? You're a mature student right? I have never seen you around,"

  
"I am an archaeology professor," she replied bluntly, glaring at him. Hopefully, he'd get the idea and leave her be. Now, this man was indeed handsome. He probably caught the attention of more than his fair share of women. However, she saw him for what he truly was. A man, just like any other. Just like all others. Another man trying to worm his way into another woman's heart just for the fun it; just to play around for a little.

  
He however ignored her glare. Smile still fixed on his pretty face. "Ah... let me guess? You are River Song? I finally have the pleasure to meet you. You are more beautiful than they say, you know,"  
She smiled at him. A smile full of teeth and aggression. "Oh, are you one of those pathetic fan girls? Do you have my poster on your wall or something?" When he failed to reply, she continued. "Look, this has been... pleasant. Actually, know, I am lying. I never like it much when I have to talk to people without brains. It is always a tedious,"

  
She expected him to frown or to storm off. After all, that was what people did when they were insulted for no reason at all. However, he stared at her completely unfazed.

  
"Where are you heading?" He asked.

  
"Home,"

  
"I shall walk you," he replied.

  
"No, you shan't. I enjoy my own solitude." She replied icily.

  
"Okay, well see you around."

  
"No, I doubt it," She replied, finally walking off.  
  
He didn't let her go that easily. From then on, he practically followed her everywhere. It was completely annoying at first and she persistently barked at him. She had told him severally that she enjoyed her own solitude.

  
After a while, she warmed to him a little – not completely. She faintly liked him as a person; it certainly was not love. She let him eat lunch with her and she permitted him to sneak in the back of her lecture hall when he had nothing else to do. She was even a little less resistant when he insisted in walking her home.

  
Then one thing led to another and she found herself accepting a dinner date and then she found herself dating him. 

  
She didn’t love Ramone and she wouldn't allow him to come close metaphorically and she refused to reveal what was actually in her mind and bit back frustration and pain by flirting perpetually. However, he saw her through rose tinted glassed and loved her unconditionally – never hesitating in telling her so and never running away.  
  
  
_End of June_

  
It was a rash decision to be honest, taking Ramone home to see her parents. After all, she certainly did not love Ramone. The most that she could muster was fondness and perhaps some reverence. It was his suggestion and she refused. However, he went on to gaze at her with soppy eyes and she sighed. He had been really good to her – she could at least do one thing to make him happy for once.

  
Their relationship was rather ironic and sad on his part. John was an absolute jerk – didn't really treat her the way she deserved. (Although, some days when she was at a melancholic disposition, she was certain that she deserved that and more.) Despite him being a flight risk and resistant towards his feelings, she loved him unconditionally, fervently blindly and whole heartedly. She was unaware that she was capable of such real, raw feelings before he dropped out of the sky. Then, there was Ramone who loved her with the same intensity that she loved John. He gazed at her as if she created the stars themselves; as if merely talking and touching her was a luxury that only he was lucky to be bestowed. He certainly did treat her specially and respectfully and it broke here heart a little. He was a good man. He deserved love, but she was not capable of it.

  
She decided that she'd surprise her parents and Anthony, not calling them beforehand. However she never envisaged that she'd be the one in for a shock. She knocked the door, expecting her mother to open it. However, standing in front of her was none other than John Smith. She blinked severally, uncertain of her eye sight. Perhaps she was hallucinating? Maybe she had been drugged without realizing? She discarded those ideas as quickly as they came and with reason, concluded that her eyesight was right.  
  
"River," he beamed as soon as he opened the door. He gazed at her avidly. Wild lions mane, just as usual. Hazel eyes – still the familiar glint of mischief and glimmer of passion. Her pretty face was creased into a frown. Her eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. He smiled a little – he did love it when she was angry and perplexed.

  
It took John a moment to realize what was new. Her hands were laced into someone else's Perplexed, he looked up and besides her was a man. A man, holding her hand and it wasn't him. He certainly did not like that at all! Had she moved on? Had he missed his chance?

  
Before he could voice his oh so obvious distaste and before River could express her irritation about the not so welcomed surprise, Amy Pond was besides him.

  
"River!" She yelled as soon as she saw her daughter. She paused as she looked at River and her partner, throwing her a quizzical look. Had she missed something? "Whose the man with the pretty face?" She asked River bluntly. John smiled a little bit at her audacity, though he wasn't too keen with the fact that she had just complimented him.

  
"What is John doing here?!" She asked fuming. She had now resorted to glaring at him and he was certain that if looks could kill, he'd be a heap of dust on the ground. He scratched his cheek nervously and avoided her piercing eyes – he most definitely had a lot of making up to do!

  
"River," John tried, apologetically.

  
"Don't you dare!" She screeched. "Don't!"

  
"Look, River, if you just listen to him... who is your... erm friend?"

  
"This is Ramone, my boyfriend," - she said stressing the boyfriend and refusing to look at John - " and we are at a very happy place at the moment. He actually loves me and he actually cares about me. You know, these days, that is a hard quality to find in a man! I don't need or want you John, so can you please sod of!" She whispered furiously and fast before barging past them and retreating inside the house.

  
Amy rolled her eyes and pinched John. "Raggedy man, told you this wouldn't be easy,"

  
He barely acknowledged her words, though he was fairly certain that the would merely reiterate how much of an idiot he was for thinking that he could just waltz back into her life. His mind was firmly fixated on what River had said. 'He actually loves me,' - if the words were bullets then they certainly hit their mark! He felt rather faint as if blood was pouring out of him. Had he, let her believe that she wasn't worth loving?

  
All this time, he had not considered the fact that he did not deserve River Song at all. He was sheepish about leaving her again – especially as she had been at an extremely tender state. He considered himself idiotic for leaving it so long. However, he did not once think that perhaps she'd be happier and better off without him?

  
"Erm... can I come in now?" His eyes snapped up to see the man River was with still waiting outside.

  
Amy simply raised her eyebrows. "Amelia Pond," she said, extending a hand.

  
"Ramone," he replied.

  
"Come in," she said wearily glancing at John and shrugging. Though, he was certain that he could detect the mirth in her eyes.

  
"Ramone," John said. Though, to his surprise, his voice was soft and not bitter.

  
"Did you treat her well?" Did you treat her like a princess? With the uttermost reverence? Did you take her nice places and were you there when she woke up? Do you love her like you've never loved before?"

  
"Yes," Ramone replied without hesitation.

  
"Then..." -It hurt him to continue. A film of tears clouded his eyes, making his vision unfocused - "Then... I guess... you deserve her more..." He said, pushing past Ramone and leaving.  
Well attempting to...

  
"John, wait!" Amelia shouted. He stopped in his tracks. She waited for Ramone to enter before continuing. She fixed John with a glare that was deadly just like her daughters. "Running away then?! Will you never learn?!"

  
"You heard him, he deserves her more than I ever did. All I did was hurt her. That was what you said and what Rory said,"

  
"Oh, shut up and stop wallowing in your own pity for goodness sake!" Amy screeched angrily. "You're not getting away that bloody easy! Think you are acting like the knight handing her over to guy who treats her well and then running? No, you owe my daughter an explanation and an apology first. God help you, if you don't, because I promise you, all hell will break lose!"

  
"Fine, I'll apologize and then go-"

  
"No you won't. Ugh, you men are thick aren't you? How did I not realize all these years back that you were such an idiot? I get your good intentions, leaving her with the guy you think she deserves. But bloody hell, I thought you knew my daughter, because if you did, you'd know that she'd hate someone else to make the decision of who her heart belongs to. If you weren't such an idiot, you'd fight for her and become the man that she deserved in order to keep her. But you just want to run off! If you're willing to give her up so easy, you probably did not even care about her! Did you even love my daughter?!"

  
"Of course I did! I loved River Song more than I thought I could ever love anyone. That scared the hell out of me and so I ran. I made a mistake. I made mistakes. I am back here because I love her. I left because I was scared and I went to Spain thinking that I can rid myself of all thoughts of her but I couldn't. I am so in love that it is intoxicating and that is why I came back. Yes, late, but this time, I ran back to her."

  
"Yes and you were going to run right away if I didn't stop you!" She screamed.  
John was about to retort before Rory joined his wife.  
"You guys, in case you have not realized, you are shouting. Everyone can hear you from a five mike radius. John, if you are going to come inside, then do so. If you are not, then let me shut the door." he said softly.  
"I don't know..." John muttered.  
  
  
River tried to keep her face clear and expressionless. It worked, despite the plethora of feelings flooding her. Anger – who did he think he was, turning up her out of the blue? Guilt – she was with Ramone now, yet, seeing John was enough to make her feeling so alive. Confusion – why was he here anyway? Complete and utter disbelief when he had said that he loved her though a little bit hopeful...

  
Ramone tried to catch her eye but she refused to look at him.

  
"River,"

  
She hummed in response.

  
"Do you love him?"

  
"What sort of question is that?"

  
"Do you love me?"

  
"Yes, don't be silly," she whispered wobbly.

  
"I … I don't think you do," he whispered back.

  
"Ramone-"

  
"It is alright. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before. But I cannot bear to keep you trapped with my love for you,"

  
"Ramone, shut up! This –"

  
"You want him, not me and I can't make you want me, so I'll set you free. If you come back to me... then I am lucky, aren't I? But I doubt that,"

  
"Ramone, please,"

  
He walked towards her and kissed her on the forehead. His kiss was full of longing and reverence. She closed her eyes – willed herself to love him.

  
"Please don't leave me," she whispered before he left her.

  
  
  
After Ramone left, John gave River her time.

  
He thought about what he was going to say to her. Did he tell her that he was so distraught and dejected about the miscarriage? Did he tell her that it brought back old memories of grief and sorrow? Did he tell her that he ran because he was scared and because the loss was so great that he thought it would burden their lives forever? Every glance, he thought, would be laced with burden. Every word, he thought would be eroded with pain. Did he tell her that he fled to Spain for 6 months – each day missing her horrendously but refused to allow himself to admit it? Did he tell her that he eventually decided that life was not worth anything if it was not entwined with hers? Did he tell her that he pleaded with her parents until they allowed him to stay? That they planned a way to surprise her when she arrived home from her last day of work? 

  
No.

  
Stood in the frame of her door, he could only thing of one thing. The most important thing. What he'd been running from all this time. What she failed to understand because he failed to get across. 

  
He cleared his throat and she turned around to see him. Her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. 

  
"River, I love you," his said, his throat dry.

  
"I know. I heard what you said outside. They were such pretty words. But I can't... I cannot put my heart on the line just for you to break it again. Just for you to run away again. You and me, we are not going to work."

  
" I run and you hide the damage. We are not perfect. I have made mistakes and I am willing to change for you. I realized that running was the worse thing that I could do when I was scared. I was being a coward. I am willing to make it up to you every day, minute and second if you'll have me,"

  
She opened her mouth to protest, but they died in her throat when she saw him perched on one knee in front of her.

"River Song, will you marry me? Will you accept me for all my faults and be my wife?"

He had hurt her so much. Ensnared her hearts from the very beginning. On those lonely nights when she was all alone and he was running, she told herself never again would she allow herself to be so stupid as to fall for him again. However, there, on one knee in front of him, she could only think of one answer.

  
"Yes," she said, holding back tears of happiness. Sheer happiness. She was happy and just fine all alone fighting her own battles... but perhaps now, she could relent? 

  
"So I am forgiven?" He asks, as he pushed the ring onto her finger. It the brightest blue diamond – matching the colour of her blue book.

  
"Always and completely," she replied, pulling him into a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. The end. 
> 
> I was so tempted to make it angsty. To have River end up with neither Ramone or John, adamant that she was better off alone because love just ruined her. However, as I was writing this, I reconsidered.
> 
> Thank you for all the reads and comments and kudos. :)


End file.
